


Left Behind

by chan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Major character death - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 06:59:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1336294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chan/pseuds/chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a reaction to 3x23. I basically re-wrote Allison's big goodbye because I didn't think it was good enough, truthfully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left Behind

She wasn’t prepared. She guesses she had never been.

Even with all the training, the melting liquid into aerodynamic arrows, the memorization of each fatal gadget from an A-17 rifle to methane gas, even with the optimistic, idealistic hopes…she wasn’t prepared.

At first heat rips through her core like a bolt of lightning, scathing her insides and puncturing her body with an unfathomable bullet of fire. Then, everything falls away like deadweight, no ripples of phantom pain, and no echoes of hurt; in some ways it’s utter bliss. The oxygen disappears for a moment along with her balance.

Scott catches her mid fall, as if trying to hold on to the possibility that she can be saved. But she knows different, she’s felt it. “Allison”, he whispers in erupted shock.

With a gasping breath she speaks.

“Did you find her? Is she okay, is Lydia safe?” She hurriedly breathes out, rib cage convulsing with an intangible panic, one that brings back a dull ache and pounds against the fibers of her nerves with vengefulness. Did I do okay?

“Ye-yeah, she’s okay.” Scott reassures, tracing his finger through her hair.

It’s like a whisper trails up spine and nestles into the crannies of her mind. Coldness, numbing away the worries and anxieties, the fears. She’s okay; she’s okay; She’s safe. Allison can breathe.

And she does, gulping in as much oxygen of this world she can possibly hold, because with every last breath the numbness grows. She feels as if she’s been swallowed by water and the gravity has finally loosened it’s child-like hold. She’s no longer yanked by the troubles it harbors. She can breathe.

“I-I can’t.” Scott says, voice beginning to scratch through her fog of euphoria. “I can’t take your pain.” He says, scared.

“It’s because it doesn’t hurt.” She says.

And it doesn’t. Maybe somewhere in the back of her mind there’s that thunder. That reckless screaming of how unfair this is, how she’s far too young to not exist, how fighting has always been a carnal attribute of her character and death will not be the exception of this. Somewhere she’s in pain, crying like madman who can see the particles in the air, but cannot help but think they are attacking him. But even so, she’s fine with it. She’s tired of fighting, of hunting down the screams of her subconscious, of her ghosts.

“No.” Scott says, tears building in his eyes, voice racked with tremors.

She doesn’t feel the pain that she sees. The one that is flooding through Scott like an alcoholic burn, singing the ends of his bottomless optimism. He’s in pain and she can’t feel it, but that doesn’t mean she can’t take it away from him. Her hero.

“It’s okay.” She says in a barley-there voice.

“No. Allison-“

“It’s okay.” She repeats.

How can pain be so inflicting when she can’t feel it? How can this, this vision of Scott broken, be all right? How can she not get a happy ending?

Scott’s face crumples together and swallows a wail. It’s not okay. It’s not. Allison is dying; Allison is dying.

The tips of her fingers have lost sensation. Now not even the cold can cradle her body. Funny how invincible one is when death can no longer touch it, when it has already used up your time. It’s the listless that truly have the power, because they can simply explore.

Allison wishes she had done this before. Instead of shouldering the storm, stand in the eye and watch the colors blur together like clothes in a washing machine.

“It’s not.” Scott says, face now painted with grief.

“Scott McCall.” She says, raising a hand to chase the feeling of his lips.

But there is no pressure where she holds his cheek. There is nothing now.

“You have to tell my dad.” She stutters out. He needs to know. He needs to know.

And with the last image of Scott’s promising nod, she’s free.  
***  
When she comes to, Allison finds herself standing in her old bedroom, the moonlight painting squares across her carpet.

“Didn’t think you would come this soon.” A voice says behind her.

Turning she finds her mother, lounging back on her bed with a cocky smirk, but gentle, understanding eyes.

“Mom?”

Her mother’s definitive nod rockets her to the bed. Allison throws her arms around her mother and gasps out a cry of both pain and relief.  
“I’m dead aren’t I?” She asks, staring directly into the cold hazel irises she’s come to love. 

However, it melts like gooey chocolate into tenderness. “Are you okay?” Her mother asks.

Allison sits back, perplexed. Her eyes scan the confines of her room. The beaded necklaces Lydia gave her once, the polaroid’s of Stiles and Scott acting ridiculous, the cracked cd’s Isaac tired to remind her to listen to. She never did. She never finished, did she? It’s all here, her life, but it feels incomplete.

“I just…I wasn’t ready. It didn’t end how I wanted it to.”

“And How’s that?”

She turns back to her mom, observing the tiny wrinkles puckered at the corner of her eyes.

“I guess just, with a little more meaning.” Allison says, slightly unsure.

How does she accept this end?

“Allison.” Her mother says, recapturing her daughter’s attention and staring directly into her eyes. “Not all deaths are special, or meaningful. In fact, most happen unexpectedly. But that’s what life’s for…to give meaning. “

“Meaning to what?” Allison asks.

“To whatever you want.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if I offended anyone. I know this is pretty controversial in terms of Allison's whole character development. This season didn't do her or Crystal justice. Nevertheless, I wanted to keep it in the same context, but hopefully add to the character's significance, at least to make it feel more worthy. Hopefully I succeeded with that. My condolences to anyone still grieving. I know it's somewhat silly to "mourn" a fictional person's death, but Allison was an amazing role model and character and she deserved better.
> 
> Any comments negative or otherwise are welcome.
> 
> Title was taken from the song "Left Behind" from the musical Spring Awakening.


End file.
